


Vallene Ensaint - Origin Story

by SilverWhiteRaven



Category: Original Work
Genre: Murder, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-11-26 16:02:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20932919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverWhiteRaven/pseuds/SilverWhiteRaven
Summary: Vallene loves all things romance, but never wishes it for herself. She has spent years carrying secret love letters and courting gifts between a Blacksmith and a Princess, and it has been a dream come to life to be able to witness it for herself and be a part of their blooming love.But not all fairytales end in happiness.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [This is an Origin Story for a character of mine, and though this is not the full story as there is much that happens after the events of this, it is intended to be a stand-alone short story that can be read on its own. It is a stand-alone because I wrote it for my College Creative Writing class! Yes, I turned it in before I posted it here, and will edit in any changes that are made for the final draft. Thank you so much to anyone who reads this, comments and questions are in whole welcome and greatly appreciated~! I hope you enjoy~!]

[Skip to "Chapter 2", it is the edited Final Draft of this, "Chapter 1" here is just the Rough Draft and does not contain as much, and I dont want you to have to re-read most of this all over again just to see whatever additions I made!!]

The sun had yet to show over to horizon when Vallene awoke to the brightening sky, blinking away her sleep as she rolled from her bed and stood. She threw open the curtainless window facing the east horizon, the cool morning air stinging as it whisked away the warmth from the room. Now wide awake, she grinned giddily for the day ahead and latched the window shut, turning away and beginning her routine to prepare for the day. 

Sitting on the chest at the foot of her bed, Vallene let her hair loose from its braids and brushed them out, the golden color dull in the early morning light. Redoing the twin braids once again when done, she twisting them up onto a large knot secured with a pin behind her head. Moving on to her small wardrobe, she was quick to dawn brown trousers and a dark green tunic, cinching them both in pace with a worn leather belt. She slid her socked feet into equally worn leather boots then walked to her door, careful not to step on the papers scattered there. She threw her satchel over her shoulder, taken from a peg on the wall then following it with a cloak around her shoulders to ward away the cold. 

Reaching down, she took the papers from the floor, examining the outside of each carefully, not opening any. These were her morning deliveries, except the few marked to be delivered at certain times. Unlike most of the other couriers in the castle with her, she only had a handful of letters, or packages when need be, as her main duty was not to the whole of the people within the castle walls, but primarily to Princess Circes of Ulbraena. 

Her relationship to the Princess was one out of the ordinary. They were in some way friends, and Vallene’s main focus around her, which has seeped into being the main focus of her life for several years now, is the passing of gifts and letters between the Princess and a Blacksmith, Vallene’s personal friend Zerachiel, who resides in the city around the castle. Vallene was more than happy, truly overjoyed, to be able to pass their showings of love between them. She was on clouds of her own just watching their relationship bloom in such a way, and she felt no envy, not craving such a thing for herself, more than content to only be a witness. 

Leaving her small room, she took off at a brisk pace, growing it into a run. Fondly she referred to this as her ‘morning warm-up’, as it served to further awaken her from her sleep and brush off the cold of the night, as well as prepare her for the no doubt several trips into town and back that she would be doing. 

Stopping at large wooden door to the chambers of one of the members of the royal court, she knocked, and waited for half a minute with no answer. She knocked again, waited, and again with no answer, she slid the letter below the door and turned away to resume her rounds. It went on like this for five more stops, only two answering her knocks, one by a chambermaid. 

Finished with the morning deliveries, the sun now coming out from hiding over the horizon, Vallene made her way out and into the courtyards. She gave pleasant greetings to those she passed, though remained respectfully quiet when near those of higher ranks and higher stations than her own. 

Orictla, one of the Princess’s parlor maids, stopped her in the middle of one of the stone courtyards. “Miss Vallene! If you would be so kind, on your way into town, give this to the baker by your smithy friend? Prince Forge had a special request for his lunch when he returns from a hunt this afternoon, and that bakery specializes in it, better than the castle’s kitchen staff.”

Vallene gave a quick nod and took the paper. “Of course! I was heading to Zerachiel already, so it’s on my way. See you with the others for dinner?”

Orictla gave several quick nods and a smile, “Yes, see you then, and thank you!”

With that, they parted ways, and Vallene began her first run into town for the day. 

Including the bakery now added on, there were only three places she needed to stop by, though despite two of them being close to each other on the southern side of town, one was on the other side of the city from the others, though closer to the castle than the bakery and the smithy. She went towards the smithy first, it was always her first priority since the affair between the blacksmith and the Princess began. She made a quick stop into the bakery as she passed it to hand them the request from the crown prince, before making it to the smithy down the same road. 

“Zerachiel!” she called into the open faced shop, the heat from the forge inside forcing her to part her cloak and drape it behind her shoulders. 

“In the back!” came the reply, and she stepped around the other smithy at the forge to follow the voice that called. The back room was where they kept the finished commission, waiting for them to be picked up and paid for. A bench was at one of the tables, an area cleared and papers strewn about. Zerachiel, Vallene’s friend and Circes’ secret lover, one of the more skilled blacksmiths of the area, sat at the bench, his papers illuminated by a lantern, his dark skin and singed hair reflecting the light of both lantern and forges with light sweat. He was scrawling on one of the papers, hurrying to finish so he could give the obvious love letter to Vallene to deliver before she left. 

She gave him a mischievous knowing smile as she glanced at the words, seeing phrases that would make even a cold hearted man’s heart flutter. Ignoring her for a moment, he finished, signed, and folded the letter, sealing the paper closed with wax and a heavy wax stamp. Grinning back at her, all the love he had poured into the letter showing through, he handed Vallene the paper and sat back cheerfully as she handed him one from her bag. He slipped it into a pocket in his trousers to read later in private. 

“So, Vallene Ensaint, my dear friend, what brings you to the forges of the Capital?” He spoke jokingly, she knew he knew she only came with letters and gifts from Princess Circes when she was working. 

“You already know, Smith, I don’t have free time to run around aimlessly just yet. But… Have you been considering my commission?”

He raised a hand to his chin and sat back, gauging her. “For a staff? Sure, if you can pay for it,” he smiled cheekily. 

She nudged his leg with the tip of her boot and smiled with a shrug. “I have what I need, let me know if you need anything from me for it, I am happy to help. Now then,” she takes a step back out of the room and slightly turns away. “I must be off, I have another stop to go to before returning to Circes.”

He gave a sigh and a shrug, standing to follow her out. “Am I never your only stop?”

“Duty calls to us all, Zerachiel Smith, but no worries, you will always be the top priority given to be.”

He smiled at that, clearly happy to know that his love gave him priority in all the tasks she assigned to Vallene. “Fair enough, off you go then, and steer clear of the forge, don’t want you burning my letter!”

She laughed, amused and knowing she would never do anything to compromise the items she was charged with. Keeping clear of the hot forges and the few other workers in the smithy, she made her way out, and took off at a sprint back towards the castle.

She skirted around the edges of the walls, making her way to the northeast side of the castle, and headed back into the buildings making up the city. Getting there was what took the longest, and she slowed to a jog as she neared.

Heading into the shop of the most expensive and highest quality seamstress made her feel out of place, it wasn’t a place for her. But she was glad to see a particular dress being actively folded on one of the work tables. The assistant seamstress folding the outfit looked up and smiled, greeting her.

“Lady Ensaint, right on time! The dress for Her Highness is ready, just finishing wrapping it up, you can take it in just a moment.” With that, she looked back down to the elegant and expensive dress, finishing the final folds and wrapping thick paper around it, typing it off with twine around the bundle. Gingerly, she handed it Vallene when she approached and held out her arms for it. 

“Thank you, have a wonderful morning,” they shared nods and a smile, before Vallene left and returned to the castle, the trip back much shorter than it had been from the smithy. 

Back inside the castle walls, she made her way to one of the hidden alcoves that lead into the servants’ passages between the walls of the castle and made her way towards Circes’ chambers. The Princess had told Vallene that any letters or gifts from Zerachiel were to come through there, to avoid them being spotted or taken by any suspecting guards or court members. Vallene found it to be exciting every time she went through these passages, risk and secret only furthering the height of the romance that this secret relationship held. 

Turning another corner and dodging another servant, Vallene spotted just who she needed to find first. “Cerise!” she called out happily. She must have just come from Circes’ chambers, gauging from the linens stuffed in a wicker basket held in the servant’s arms. Slowing her pace and walked up with a nod in greeting and one being returned, Vallene held out the wrapped package in her arms. “New dress for the Princess, It needs pressing before being added the Princess Circes’ wardrobe, think you can handle it?”

Cerise nods and holds out her basket, and Vallene gladly sets the wrapped dress on top of the linen. With another nod, Cerise takes off down the passages and out of sight. 

Vallene gives an almost wistful sigh watching her go. Cerise was an interesting character, it felt almost like a tragic romance that Cerise lived. Every servant of the castle and plenty of the royal court knew she was some bastard of a high ranking family, a branding on her forehead of a solid white down pointing triangle with two black vines snaking out from behind being proof, however few actually knew who her parents were. 

Vallene knew.

It was a drunken, wine filled night in Circes’ chambers, and the Princess had let slip that Cerise was her own half sister with a shared father, and that Cerise had been her own personal maid from the moment the bastard princess could carry out an order. Their relationship had never grown much, always professional, nothing close to anything sisterly, and it would remain that way. 

Secretly, Vallene hoped the disowned princess would find a romance like her sister’s, and Vallene would be over the moon happy to help her out if she wished to exchange secret words and items with another, as well. 

With another sigh and a soft smile, Vallene turned back her current task, delivering Zerachiel’s latest letter to the Princess. Weaving her way past a few more servants, she swiftly made her way to one of the servants’ entrances to Princess Circes’ chambers. 

She knocked quickly on the small servants’ door leading to the main sitting room of the Princess’s chambers. She waited, staying close to the door to allow other servants to pass her in the narrow passageway inside the castle walls. The wait was longer than usual, though she could hear Circes speaking to another on the other side of the room. Soon enough she heard Circes tell her to come in, and she unlatched the door, stooping to enter before closing it again. 

She caught sight of Thyreus just before the door to the main corridors shut. She found that curious, what did the other courier have, or what was he given, that kept Vallene from being allowed in until he was gone? 

She shrugged it off, smiling and approaching the Princess with a smile, stopping two paces away to deeply bow in greeting. It felt almost silly, the two of them were rather close friends after all these years, and the formalities outside of public view had simply been tossed out the window by now. But seeing Thyreus and how Circes didn't seem too keen on returning the smile, she decided not to start out too informally.

“I have another letter for you, Circes, from Zerachiel, he was practically done writing it before I even handed him yours.” Her tone was light, bordering playful. She had been the courier between them for so long, and she found the situation to be over-the-moon romantic. She flipped open the cover of her satchel and reached inside for the letter, but was interrupted just as her fingers found the letter.

“Vallene.”

Right away, she knew something was wrong, dreadfully so. The Princess’s voice sounded dead, stoney and cold when saying her name. 

“Yes, your Highness?”  
  
“No more letters from the Smith, and I won’t be needing your services to deliver any to him any more.”

“Ah-” It caught her off guard, and she stood still, eyes down respectfully but full of questions. “May I inquire?”  
  
Circes nodded, sweeping her hand as if to say, ‘you have the floor’.

“Why no more letters, has something happened?” She was worried, concerned that the secret affair between the Princess and the Blacksmith had been discovered. Who had slipped up, had Vallene made a mistake and been followed, or had one of the letters discovered? “Will I… be allowed to continue serving you?”

There was a long pause before the princess answered, the moment dragging painfully. “Things have changed, Vallene, for some time now, and-” she trailed off, the silence returned, broken only by the sound of busy feet on the other side of the walls and the crackling fire. Circes cleared her throat, turning away, looking to the window, though the curtains were drawn. “Well, you shall find out. No doubt rumors will be spread fast before anything official is announced, everyone knows Thyreus has a tenacity for peeking at his deliveries and not keeping quiet. Either way, you will know. You are dismissed.”

One more brief pause and a nod. “And yes, you are still my courier.”

Vallene gave a fast bow, turning on her heel before she was fully upright and swiftly made her way back to the servants’ entrance, glancing back at the last second before the door latched shut. 

Her heart pounded quickly, loud in her ears and hard against her chest. The interaction was so brief, so lacking in details, she wasn't sure what to think. The letter was still in her bag, and she pulled it out, hesitating only a moment before sliding it under the door then turning and dashing down the passageway as quickly as she could without running over anyone or tripping over servants’ supplies. 

It felt like the dream romance she had been observing was crumbling, a clump of the sweetest sugar dropped into a muddy river. What had changed? They seemed so happy only yesterday, did she miss the signs of a new tide coming in, how long ago did it start? Or had she been right, had they been found out and a storm now brewed, threatening Circes’ unless she broke off her connection to Zerachiel?

Vallene wasn’t out of the castle walls before she got her answer, the usual whispers of rumors singing a new tune, spreading worse than wildfire. 

_“The princess? To be married!?”_  
_ “Yes! Isn’t that just wonderful?”_  
_ “So she finally selected her groom to be?”_  
_ “She did, so many men have been courting her for so long…”_  
_ “Tell me who, he must be dashing and rich to have been selected!” _  
_ “I hear it will be Prince Zevvei Trinid Kelvar of the Sinaura Kingdom…”_

Marriage? A Prince? This could not be, Vallene could not believe her ears, no, she could not accept it as true. What had happened to the fairytale romance between the Princess and the Smith? Where had all that magic gone, what lie was hidden through her memories, what truth was now flooding through the streets?

Oh, she hoped with all of her shaken heart the news did not reach her dear friend before she did.

Running out the gates of the castle, Vallene headed straight for the smithy. It wasn’t even noon yet, but when she got there, the forges were not as hot as they usually were by this time. The few other workers were milling about, shrouded in stress, Zerachiel nowhere to be seen up front or in the back.

She headed to the next building over, a home that belonged to the smithy and housed the workers and apprentices. Taking just a moment to knock, she let herself in, rushing up the steps and into the room she knew to be Zerachiel’s. He was at his small desk, hunched over with his head in his arms, body shaking. Opening her mouth to ask what was now plaguing him, the words caught in her throat as she eyed the paper sitting on the wood in front of him. 

It was the letter from Circes. 

She glanced at it, skimming the words, and several stood out above the rest. _ No more… Engaged… This ends now… Do not love you… To be married… Prince… Never loved… Never come… Shall not see you… Goodbye. _

“Oh, Zerachiel…” She went to him, slowly, softly, setting a gentle hand upon his back. 

He turned his head and looked up at her, his eyes red and features stained with tears pulling streaks through the ash on his face. “I loved her… I thought…” His tears burst anew with a fresh and pained sob as he sat up and wrapped his arms around Vallene. She leaned into him, being as much comfort as she could be for her dearest of friends. 

It took time, but she managed to calm him, yet the nightmare was not over yet. This was a wound with years behind it, and would take more than a few tears and one moment of comfort to heal. 

She was able to get him to return to the smithy, convincing him that putting his thoughts and emotions into a new work would help, as long as it was something he wanted to do, something without stress for perfection like a regular commission or something intended to be sold would. He had agreed, and with a few pushes and encouragement from the others working, the smithy was back up and running, though their best smith was now unable to work on what was needed and at the best pace. The others, luckily, found this to be a good opportunity to better their own skills and learn how to properly pick up the slack. Vallene had to return to the castle, as duty always calls when the sun is above the horizon, and left her friend in the hopefully capable hands of his fellow workers. 

When she returned, everything was exactly as she left it. Somehow, she expected the place to be chaos, almost a war zone. But it wasn’t. There was more hustle and bustle from the announcement and the preparations, but that was all beyond the increase in gossip on the topic. Perhaps, she thought, it was just her, she was the only one who thought things had changed, that the incident of the day was on a cosmic level of terrible. Perhaps, she and her friend were the only ones in the whole of the capital city and the royal castle that were star-crossed on this day. He lost his love. She lost seeing the greatest love story bloom, and watched it wither in seconds like it had never truly grown. 

Vallene did not go to dinner with the other servants that night.

The next day, and the day after, and following more days, spanning into several weeks, Vallene’s routine remained almost unchanged, but to her, the changes were the weight of the world dragging at her shoulders and legs. 

She continued to deliver packages and letters, now taking on more than before due to her less frequent visits into the town. Many of the new letters and documents had to do with the engagement and wedding to come, it had become her responsibility to keep communications on the matter smooth and quick. No longer did she deliver anything to the smithy, but instead to the private guest chambers of the Prince of Sinaura, a much shorter trip, and much more frequent. Each time, Vallene’s heart shattered more and more for her friend. 

As often as she could with deliveries into the town, she visited Zerachiel at the smithy, and spoke with him every moment she could spare. After the sun would go down and she was released from her duties, she would visit him again, making it a habit to stay the nights on his floor to keep him company as the moon passed through the stars. 

During those nights, she would distract him when he no longer wished to speak about Circes and instead told him about her family. She told him of the gardens around a church that he father Thorben tended to. She talked about her mother, Wisteria, who wove cloth and taught Vallene how to embroider. He laughed at her with that one, joking that her mother did a terrible job teaching her, seeing as one one of the gifts she gave him for one of his birthdays had the worst embroidery he had ever seen on it. She almost playfully kicked him for that one, but knew better. She also mentioned her brothers, Alder and Cervalius, one taking up gardening with their father, and the latter, who had once visited the city and met Zerachiel, was a leathersmith. All three of them, Vallene and both smiths, had gotten it into their heads that the two men could do wonders if they ever worked together. Zerachiel and Vallene decided the night they remembered that that they would some day, maybe even soon, do that, the two could even move away and open their own leathersmith and blacksmith smithy somewhere, become the best in all of Ulbraena. 

The days and nights passed slowly yet were a blur when looked back upon. The wedding had approached, and Vallene had made it her life's new mission to make a final delivery of a single, and final, letter from the smith to his beloved Princess. 

Of course, the star-crossed courier of love that she was, she had the worst possible timing. Not that she would have known that no matter what, what was to happen could not be avoided. 

The ceremony was at sunset, and Vallene had been dismissed in early afternoon from her duties to be allowed to rest. She had taken the time to visit Zerachiel, and, though his heart was still broken and mending, he had requested of Vallene to deliver one last letter. 

“Zerachiel, are you certain? You know she cannot come back from this ceremony, there is no stopping this, you may only hurt more.”

He gave a sigh and a sake of the head, but a weary smile adorned his lips. “Yes, I am sure. This isn’t meant to bring her back to me, no, I know now that I was not who she wanted for a long time. No, this is for me. I don’t care if she never reads is and uses it to fuel the fire in her chambers tonight. This… This is my path towards moving on.”

Vallene gave him a big smile, proud to see her friend taking steps on his own for his own self. “Then, I promise, no matter what, I will get this to her.”

She made her way to the castle as the sun approached the western horizon, sneaking towards night. There was much celebration outside the walls, the city preparing its own little festival to celebrate the union of the two royals and their countries. No doubt the festivities would last well into the morning of the following day and into the next. 

She walked through the servants’ passages, finding the close quarter walls to be suffocating, different from the excitement they used to elicit just over two months back, the last time she had snuck through these walls. 

Finding the door she needed, she knocked. The room beyond fell silent, and a long, breathless moment passed before she heard the familiar, yet unfamiliarly cold voice call her inside. Clutching tightly to her satchel, she pushed open the door and stepped in.

The sight was beautiful and breathtaking, and made her heart ache. The room was full of candles and gorgeous flowers, and the Princess was surrounded by several servants fussing over her makeup, hair, and dress. 

Vallene opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught and stuck, no sound coming from her. Circes narrowed her eyes at her suspiciously, and eyed her satchel. After a long moment of intense fire in her eyes, she turned away, and snapped at one of the maids. It was Orictla who stepped forward to await instructions. 

“Retrieve Sir Vass Dormire, Captain of the Guard, inform him we have a traitor in my chambers and I want her dealt with.”

Vallene paled, and her bag slid from her shoulder and fell to the floor with a soft thump. She swayed backwards, taking a half pace back to steady herself. She didn’t want to accept the implication that was just revealed. Her, a traitor? Her, a personal friend and keeper of secrets for the royal Princess herself? Was that it? The secrets? Did she know too much, had her final attempt at one last letter from her old lover cross a line, turning her from a friend into a threat to her power?

Princess Circes snapped at another of the maids, this time, it was Cerise. “Cerise, be a dear, and fetch my favorite huntress. I have game for her to catch.”

That was all Circes had to say before Vallene was turning on her heels and dashing back though the servants’ door and down the uneven corridors. 

Her heart seemed to forget how to beat correctly for the situation, the thumps hard, muted, and not fast enough. Vallene was out of the servants’ passages and tripping through the large castle corridors before her head could really catch up.

She realized as she slammed into the frame of one of the doorways to a courtyard that she was about to die. The PRincess didn't just want her captured and thrown away to rot, no, she wanted her complete and undeniable silence. 

Vallene never thought a friend could be so cruel.

A shout echoes behind her as she slipped through the doors and into the courtyard, and she recognized it as belonging to the Captain of the Guard, a man accustomed to shouting at people from a distance and giving chase with more men following him on others’ tails. 

The courtyard felt so out of place to her mood, just as everything else had been these past couple months. She only hesitated a second before dashing through the petal covered ground below silk draped sky. 

She found her way into the west garden, running through and over bushes and beds of flora. There were times when she was young and still with her parents, towns away, and would run through the gardens of the church her father worked endlessly to maintain. She Remembered he would scold her for ruining anything or for simply being a risk to his hard work, but he would forgive her and show her how to mend the broken plants and keep them thriving. A smile graced her face as a sob tore through her chest and tears stung at her eyes, blurring her path. 

Her cloak snagged in the thistles of a beautiful flowering bush, and she fell as her feet slipped from under her. She let out a choked cry, shaking as her hands came up to undo the clasp at her neck. She could hear the rolling thunder of approaching soldiers, and she wavered as she stood back on her feet and took shaking steps forward, willing herself back into a sprint. 

She approached a grove of flowering trees, and risked a look back towards her pursuers. Two people were at the lead, Sir Vass, and, to Vallene’s dismay, Lady Cylanne Woodsmann, the practically fabled huntress. 

Cylanne was a mix of beautiful and grotesque. A terrible scar completely covered her right eye, one jagged part going up into her brow, and another spike at the end where the scar met the bridge of her nose went all the way from below her chin and diagonally up to the right and into her hair. Her dark red hair occasionally would cover the majority of the scar, and those were the times when it would be obvious that once she held beauty equal to nature itself, the very place she hunted in, and the very place that took one of her brilliant, lightning blue eyes. 

But now was not the time for Vallene to be thinking of the romantic tragedy that was Lady Woodsmann. After all, anything she hunted was destined to be caught, the end to every story she was placed in. This time, the story was Vallene's.

Right now was time to think of herself, and this frightening attempt to escape that which once she loved. Her shoulder flew into one of the trees as her foot caught in a root, and she cried in pain from the impact, then groaned as she skidded across the rough ground, feeling her clothes and skin marred by rock and wood. 

It didn’t feel odd or out of place, however, as she stood and ran again as best she could, slowed by a throbbing ankle and bloodied legs, hands and cheek, that her thoughts went out the Zerachiel. 

She made a promise to deliver that letter, and though she never removed it from her bad, the leather satchel that held it was still dropped in the chambers of the Princes he once loved so much. 

Now she was being chased, and her life was on its final stretch. She knew there was no escaping it, but running felt like one final act of fighting back against the tragedy she had witnessed. 

Her right shoulder felt another impact and pain bloomed in a matter of seconds. This time it was not a tree from the front of her, but an arrow from behind. 

She twisted as she fell, the shaft of the arrow snapping as the landed, the head and part of the shaft being forced further into her back shoulder and out through her chest at an angle. She lay on the ground, facing the sky through the flowers and leaves of the trees, breathless and in too much pain to sob or cry. 

The thundering feet came to a loudly silent stop around her, and she glanced at the faces of the guards and the huntress, her own personal pursuers, hunters of innocent game. She let out a smile as a final wave of tears slid down her cheeks and to her ears. 

She took in one last, shaking breath, and smiled, one full of sorrow and betrayal, framed in fresh and shining blood. “All I want is their happiness. Is that too much to ask..?”


	2. Rough Draft 2: Edits and Additions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After feedback from my instructor, I've made some changes to the story, including dialog at the end as well as another scene with Circes at the beginning, feel free to look it over!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plz, someone remind me to change Cerise's name so it stops getting confused with Circes'...  
Edit: Done! Changed the name! Y'all, Cerise is now Saeris, YAY!

The sun had yet to show over the horizon when Vallene awoke to the brightening sky, blinking away her sleep as she rolled from her bed and stood. She threw open the curtainless window facing the east horizon, the cool morning air stinging as it whisked away the warmth from the room. Now wide awake, she grinned giddily for the day ahead and latched the window shut, turning away and beginning her routine to prepare for the day. 

Sitting on the chest at the foot of her bed, Vallene let her hair loose from its braids and brushed them out, the golden color dull in the early morning light. Redoing the twin braids once again when done, she twisting them up onto a large knot secured with a pin behind her head. Moving on to her small wardrobe, she was quick to don brown trousers and a dark green tunic, cinching them both in place with a worn leather belt. She slid her socked feet into equally worn leather boots then walked to her door, careful not to step on the letters scattered there that had been slipped beneath the door over the night. She threw her satchel over her shoulder, taken from a peg on the wall then following it with a cloak around her shoulders to ward away the cold. 

Reaching down, she took the papers from the floor, examining the outside of each carefully, noticing one was addressed to herself, opening it and looking it over, not opening any of the others as they were not for her. These others were her morning deliveries, except for the few marked to be delivered at certain times. Unlike most of the other couriers in the castle with her, she only had a handful of letters, or packages when need be, as her main duty was not to the whole of the people within the castle walls, but primarily to Princess Circes of Ulbraena, who was the one the note had come from. 

_ “Vallene”, _ it read, “ _ come to my chambers as soon as you complete your early rounds.” _Short and simple, as they usually were.

Her relationship to the Princess was out of the ordinary. They were in some way friends, growing to know each other through their unique relationship of Princess and Personal Courier. Vallene’s most important task, which had become the main focus of her life for several years now, was passing gifts and letters between the Princess and a blacksmith. The blacksmith happened to be Vallene’s personal friend, Zerachiel, who resided in the city outside of the castle. Vallene was more than happy, truly overjoyed, to be able to pass their showings of love between them. She was on clouds of her own just watching their relationship bloom in such a way, and she felt no envy, not craving such a thing for herself, more than content to be only a witness. 

Leaving her small room, she took off at a brisk pace, growing it into a run. Fondly she referred to this as her ‘morning warm-up’, as it served to further awaken her from her sleep and brush off the cold of the night, as well as prepare her for the no doubt several trips into town and back that she would be doing. 

She stopped at a large wooden door leading into the chambers of one of the members of the royal court, knocked, and waited for half a minute with no answer. She knocked again, waited, and again with no answer, she slid the letter below the door and turned away to resume her rounds. It went on like this for five more stops, only two answering her knocks, one by a chambermaid. 

Finished with the morning deliveries, the sun now coming out from hiding over the horizon, Vallene made her way to the chambers of the Princess. She knocked upon the large door, years of experience leading to not knocking a second time after a moment of wait, knowing full well Circes was awake. She was proven right when the door was opened and she was allowed entrance by one of the servants who was here every morning to help the Princess dress for the day.

Her usual greeting to Circes froze in her mouth as she caught sight of Thyreus standing by the already dressed Princess, a letter clutched in his hand as he was then dismissed. He left the room with a brief glance and greeting to Vallene just before the door to the main corridors shut behind her. She found that curious, what did the other courier have, or what was he given, that Vallene could have delivered herself?

She shrugged it off, approaching the Princess with a smile, stopping two paces away to deeply bow in greeting. It felt almost silly, the two of them were rather close friends after all these years, and the formalities outside of public view had simply been tossed out the window by now. 

“Good morning Princess Circes, my morning rounds are complete, you wanted me?”

“Vallene, yes, of course, welcome,” Circes responded in kind, waving away the maids who bowed and made a hasty exit through the servants’ door. Vallene could swear she seemed distant, different from usually light mornings. She kept silent on the subject, however, knowing Circes would bring it up herself and would rather not have any of her private negative thoughts pried into.

The Princess went over to one of her desks, picking up a short stack of letters, turning back to Vallene and handing them to her, and pulling one more from a pocket in her skirt. “Take these to where they belong, at the right times, of course. And this last letter, you already know for whom.” She held out the single letter, and Vallene indeed knew exactly what it was, another letter for Zerachiel. She smiled, knowing she would be heading into town first thing just to give it to him if nothing else. 

“Of course, Circes,” she said happily, glad for her tasks. “Anything else?” She glanced back at the main door where the other courier had gone. She didn’t think Circes would hide anything.

There was a pause, then a dismissing wave of a hand from the Princess. “No, you may go. Oh, and make a stop to the seamstress, there should be a dress waiting for me there.”

With a renewed grin, Vallene gave a flourished bow and left, back the way she came, and headed out of the royal castle, into the courtyards, and leaving through the high and heavy southern gates leading to the city. 

There were only two places she needed to stop by for now before the afternoon came, though one was on the other side of the city from the other, the latter closer to the castle than the first, so she was glad to have the time. She went towards the smithy first, it was always her first priority since the affair between the blacksmith and the Princess began. The dress could wait.

“Zerachiel!” she called into the open faced shop, the heat from the forge inside forcing her to part her cloak and drape it behind her shoulders. 

“In the back!” came the reply, and she stepped around the other smithy at the forge to follow the voice that called. The back room was where they kept the finished commissions, waiting for them to be picked up and paid for. A bench was at one of the tables, an area cleared and papers strewn about. Zerachiel, one of the more skilled blacksmiths of the area, sat at the bench, his papers illuminated by a lantern, his dark skin and singed hair reflecting the light of both lantern and forges with light sweat. He was scrawling on one of the papers, hurrying to finish the obvious love letter so he could give it to Vallene to deliver before she left. 

She gave him a mischievous knowing smile as she glanced at the words, seeing phrases that would make even the coldest of hearts flutter. Ignoring her for a moment, he finished, signed, and folded the letter, sealing the paper closed with wax and a heavy wax stamp. Grinning back at her, all the love he had poured into the letter showing through, he handed Vallene the paper and sat back cheerfully as she handed him one from her bag. He slipped it into a pocket in his trousers to read later in private. 

“So, Vallene Ensaint, my dear friend, what brings you to the forges of the Capital?” He spoke jokingly, she knew he knew she only came with letters and gifts from Princess Circes when she was working. 

“You already know, Smith, I don’t have free time to run around aimlessly just yet. But… Have you been considering my commission?”

He raised a hand to his chin and sat back, gauging her. “For a staff? Sure, if you can pay for it,” he smiled cheekily. 

She nudged his leg with the tip of her boot and smiled with a shrug. “I have what I need, let me know if you need anything from me for it, I am happy to help. Now then,” she took a step back out of the room and slightly turned away, “I must be off. I have another stop before returning to Circes.”

He gave a sigh and a shrug, standing to follow her out. “Am I never your only stop?”

“Duty calls to us all, Zerachiel Smith, but no worries, you will always be the top priority given to be.”

He smiled at that, clearly happy to know that his love gave him priority in all the tasks the Princess assigned to Vallene. “Fair enough, off you go then, and steer clear of the forge, don’t want you burning my letter!”

She laughed, amused and knowing she would never do anything to compromise the items she was charged with. Keeping clear of the hot forges and the few other workers in the smithy, she made her way out, and took off at a sprint back towards the castle.

She skirted around the edges of the walls, making her way to the northeast side of the castle, and headed back into the buildings making up the city. Getting there was what took the longest, and she slowed to a jog as she neared.

Heading into the shop of the most expensive and highest quality seamstress made her feel out of place, but she was glad to see a particular dress on one of the work tables. The assistant seamstress folding the outfit looked up and smiled, greeting her.

“Lady Ensaint, right on time! The dress for Her Highness is ready, just finishing wrapping it up, you can take it in just a moment.” With that, she looked back down to the elegant and expensive dress, finishing the final folds and wrapping thick paper around it, tying it off with twine. Gingerly, she handed it to Vallene when she approached and held out her arms for it. 

“Thank you,” they shared nods and a smile, before Vallene turned to leave, catching a dreamy sigh from the seamstress. 

She glanced back curious, and the girl giggled. “I hope she comes to us for her wedding gown, too, she is lovely to work for.”

Vallene gave a joyful laugh, “Of course, have a lovely day.” She left and returned to the castle, the trip back much shorter than it had been from the smithy, not paying much mind to the seamstress’s comment. 

Back inside the castle walls, she didn't think much of it as she heard yet another mention of the princess and her future wedding. She assumed it was simply the topic of the day, it did tend to bubble up whenever there were visitors from other kingdoms or high ranking nobles.

She made her way to one of the hidden alcoves that lead to the servants’ passages between the walls of the castle, making her way towards Circes’ chambers. The Princess had told Vallene that any letters or gifts from Zerachiel were to come through there, to avoid them being spotted or taken by any suspecting guards or court members. Vallene found it to be exciting every time she went through these passages, risk and secret only furthering the height of the romance that this secret relationship held. 

Turning another corner and dodging another servant, Vallene spotted just who she needed to find first. “Saeris!” she called out happily. She must have just come from Circes’ chambers, gauging from the linens stuffed in a wicker basket held in the servant’s arms. She slowed pace and walking up with a nod, one being returned, Vallene held out the wrapped package in her arms. “New dress for the Princess. It needs pressing, think you can handle it?”

Saeris nodded and held out her basket, and Vallene set the wrapped dress on top of the linen. With another nod, Saeris takes off down the passage and out of sight. 

Vallene gives an almost wistful sigh as she watched her go. Saeris was an interesting character, it felt almost like a tragic romance that Saeris lived. Every servant of the castle and plenty of the royal court knew she was some bastard of a high ranking family, a tattooed branding on her forehead of a solid white down-pointing triangle with two black vines snaking out from behind being proof; however, few actually knew who her parents were. 

Vallene knew.

It was a drunken, wine filled night in Circes’ chambers, and the Princess had let slip that Saeris was her own older half sister with a shared father, and that Saeris had become her own personal maid after she was born from the moment the bastard princess could carry out an order. Their relationship had never grown much, always professional, nothing close to anything sisterly, and it would remain that way. 

It made Vallene wonder, if Saeris had not been disowned, would the younger Circes have had to hide her love for Zerachiel? Would she deal with suitors still or would her heart be free from any potential royal duty? Secretly, however, Vallene hoped the disowned princess would find a romance like her sister’s, and Vallene would be over the moon happy to help her out if she wished to exchange words and items with another in secret. 

With another sigh and a soft smile, Vallene turned back to her current task, delivering Zerachiel’s latest letter to the Princess. Weaving her way past a few more servants, she swiftly made her way to one of the servants’ entrances to Princess Circes’ chambers. 

She knocked quickly on the small door leading to the main sitting room of the Princess’s chambers. She waited, staying close to the door to allow other servants to pass her in the narrow passageway. The wait was longer than usual, though she could hear Circes speaking on the other side of the room. Soon enough she heard Circes tell her to come in, and she unlatched the door, stooping to enter before closing it again. 

Seeing a distant and almost chilling look on Circes, and how didn't return Vallene’s smile, Vallene decided not to start out too informally like she had earlier.  


“I picked up your dress, Princess Circes, it was stunning if I do say, it will look wonderful once it is ready to wear. Cirise will take care of that, I gave it to her on my way here. I also have another letter for you from Zerachiel. He was writing it before I even handed him yours, finished in time before I left. I am sure he will reply to the new one soon, as well.” Her tone was light, bordering playful. She had been the courier between them for so long, and she found the situation to be over-the-moon romantic. She flipped open the cover of her satchel and reached inside for the letter, but was interrupted just as her fingers found it.  


“Vallene.”

Right away, she knew something was wrong, dreadfully so. The Princess’s voice sounded dead, stoney and cold when saying her name, different from that morning. 

“Yes, your Highness?”  
  
“No more letters from the Smith. Truly, this morning’s was the last. I won’t be needing your services to deliver any to him any more.”

“Ah-” It caught her off guard, and she stood still, eyes down respectfully but full of questions. “May I inquire?”  
  
Circes nodded, sweeping her hand as if to say, ‘you have the floor’.

“Why no more letters, has something happened?” She was worried, concerned that the secret affair between the Princess and the blacksmith had been discovered. Who had slipped up? Had Vallene made a mistake and been followed, or had one of the letters been discovered? “Will I… be allowed to continue serving you?”

There was a long pause before the princess answered, the moment dragging painfully. “Things have changed, Vallene, for some time now, and-” she trailed off, the silence returned, broken only by the sound of busy feet on the other side of the walls and the crackling fire. Circes cleared her throat, turning away, looking to the window, though the curtains were drawn. 

“Well, you shall find out. No doubt rumors are already spread fast. Nothing official has been announced just yet, but everyone knows Thyreus has a tendency to peeking at his deliveries and not keep quiet. Either way, you will know. You are dismissed.”  


One more brief pause followed by a nod. “And yes, you are still my courier.”

Vallene gave a fast bow, turning on her heel before she was fully upright and swiftly made her way back to the servants’ entrance, glancing back at the last second before the door latched shut. 

Her heart pounded quickly, loud in her ears and hard against her chest. The interaction was so brief, so lacking in details, she wasn't sure what to think. The letter was still in her bag, and she pulled it out, hesitating only a moment before sliding it under the door then turning and dashing down the passageway as quickly as she could without running over anyone or tripping over servants’ supplies. 

It felt like the dream romance she had been observing was crumbling, a clump of the sweetest sugar dropped into a muddy river. What had changed? They seemed so happy only yesterday, did she miss the signs of a new tide coming in, how long ago did it start? Or had she been right, had they been found out and a storm now brewed, threatening Circes unless she broke off her connection to Zerachiel?

Circes had mentioned rumors, though. Vallene did not pay attention to them often, keeping to her own little world and her own tasks. 

Vallene wasn’t out of the castle walls before she got her answer to her questions, hearing the whispers once again, the usual whispers of rumors singing their new tune, louder in her ears this time, and more detail than they had been before. They were spreading worse than wildfire, and stung her heart just as badly. 

_ “So she finally selected her groom to be?” _

This just couldn't be, Vallene did not want to think about this.

_ “She did, so many men have been courting her for so long…” _

This would break Zerachiel’s heart if he heard, she hoped these rumors did not spread to him.

_ “Tell me who, he must be dashing and rich to have been selected!” _

_ Please _ , she begged the world, _ let this not be true, let her want to be with the smith. _

_  
_ _ “I hear it will be Prince Zevvei Trinid Kelvar of the Sinaura Kingdom…” _

A Prince? 

Vallene could not believe her ears, no, she could not accept it as true. What had happened to the fairytale romance between the Princess and the smith? Where had all that magic gone, what lie was hidden through her memories, what truth was now flooding through the streets?

Oh, she hoped with all of her shaken heart the news did not reach her dear friend before she did.

Unless It already had. 

Her thoughts flashed back to the letter Circes had given her earlier that morning. The _ last _ latter from her. 

She hoped as strongly as she could that the letter was kind and sweet, and let him down easily, but something nagged at her telling her to _ run_, run and hope to find him before his heart could be smashed by a sheet of paper and ink.

Taking the advice of her heart, running out the gates of the castle, Vallene headed straight for the smithy. It wasn’t even noon yet, but when she got there, the forges were not as hot as they usually were by this time. The few other workers were milling about, shrouded in stress, Zerachiel nowhere to be seen up front or in the back.

She headed to the next building over, a home that belonged to the smithy and housed the workers and apprentices. Taking just a moment to knock, she let herself in, rushing up the steps and into the room she knew to be Zerachiel’s. He was at his small desk, hunched over with his head in his arms, body shaking. Opening her mouth to ask what was now plaguing him, hoping it wasn't what she thought it to be, the words caught in her throat as she eyed the paper sitting on the wood in front of him. 

It was the letter from Circes. 

She glanced at it, skimming the words, and several stood out above the rest. _ No more… Engaged… This ends now… Do not love you… To be married… Prince… Never loved… Never come… Shall not see you… Goodbye. _

“Oh, Zerachiel…” She went to him, slowly, softly, setting a gentle hand upon his back. 

He turned his head and looked up at her, his eyes red and features stained with tears pulling streaks through the ash on his face. “I loved her… I thought…” His tears burst anew with a fresh and pained sob as he sat up and wrapped his arms around Vallene. She leaned into him, being as much comfort as she could be for her dearest of friends. 

It took time, but she managed to calm him, yet the nightmare was not over yet. This was a wound with years behind it, and would take more than a few tears and one moment of comfort to heal. 

She was able to get him to return to the smithy, convincing him that putting his thoughts and emotions into a new work would help, as long as it was something he wanted to do, something without stress for perfection like a regular commission or something intended to be sold would. He had agreed, and with a few pushes and encouragement from the others working, the smithy was back up and running, though their best smith was now unable to work on what was needed and at the best pace. The others, luckily, found this to be a good opportunity to better their own skills and learn how to properly pick up the slack. Vallene had to return to the castle, as duty always calls when the sun is above the horizon, and left her friend in the hopefully capable hands of his fellow workers. 

When she returned, everything was exactly as she left it. Somehow, she expected the place to be chaos, almost a war zone. But it wasn’t. There was more hustle and bustle from the announcement and the preparations, but that was all beyond the increase in gossip on the topic. Perhaps, she thought, it was just her, she was the only one who thought things had changed, that the incident of the day was on a cosmic level of terrible. Perhaps, she and her friend were the only ones in the whole of the capital city and the royal castle that were star-crossed on this day. He lost his love. She lost seeing the greatest love story bloom, and watched it wither in seconds like it had never truly grown. 

Vallene did not go to dinner with the other servants that night.

The next day, and the day after, and following more days, spanning into several weeks, Vallene’s routine remained almost unchanged, but to her, the changes were the weight of the world dragging at her shoulders and legs. 

She continued to deliver packages and letters, now taking on more than before due to her less frequent visits into the town. Many of the new letters and documents had to do with the engagement and wedding to come, it had become her responsibility to keep communications on the matter smooth and quick. No longer did she deliver anything to the smithy, but instead to the private guest chambers of the Prince of Sinaura, a much shorter trip, and much more frequent. Each time, Vallene’s heart shattered more and more for her friend. 

As often as she could with deliveries into the town, she visited Zerachiel at the smithy, and spoke with him every moment she could spare. After the sun would go down and she was released from her duties, she would visit him again, making it a habit to stay the nights on his floor to keep him company as the moon passed through the stars. 

During those nights, she would distract him when he no longer wished to speak about Circes and instead told him about her family. 

She told him of the gardens around a church that her father tended to. She talked about her mother who wove cloth and taught Vallene how to embroider. He laughed at her with that one, joking that her mother did a terrible job teaching her, seeing as one one of the gifts she gave him for one of his birthdays had the worst embroidery he had ever seen on it. She almost playfully kicked him for that one, but knew better. 

She also mentioned her two brothers, one taking up gardening with their father, and the latter, who had once visited the city and met Zerachiel, was a leathersmith. All three of them, Vallene and both smiths, had gotten it into their heads that the two men could do wonders if they ever worked together. The night they remembered that idea, Zerachiel and Vallene decided they should some day, maybe even soon, follow through with it. The two smithies with Vallene's help could move away somewhere and open their own joined leathersmith and blacksmith and become the best in all of Ulbraena. 

The days and nights passed slowly yet were a blur when looked back upon. The wedding had approached, and Vallene had made it her life's new mission to make a final delivery of a single, and truly final, letter from the smith to his beloved Princess. 

Of course, the star-crossed courier of love that she was, she had the worst possible timing. Not that she would have known that no matter what, what was to happen could not be avoided. 

The ceremony was at sunset, and Vallene had been dismissed in early afternoon from her duties to be allowed to rest. She had taken the time to visit Zerachiel, and, though his heart was still broken and mending, he had requested of Vallene to deliver one last letter. 

“Zerachiel, are you certain? You know she cannot come back from this ceremony, there is no stopping this, you may only hurt more.”

He gave a sigh and a shake of the head, but a weary smile adorned his lips. “Yes, I am sure. This isn’t meant to bring her back to me, no, I know now that I was not who she wanted for a long time. No, this is for me. I don’t care if she never reads this and uses it to fuel the fire in her chambers tonight. This… this is my path towards moving on.”

Vallene gave him a big smile, proud to see her friend taking steps and moving on. “Then, I promise, no matter what, I will get this to her.”

She made her way to the castle as the sun approached the western horizon, sneaking towards night. There was much celebration outside the walls, the city preparing its own little festival to celebrate the union of the two royals and their countries. No doubt the festivities would last well into the morning of the following day and into the next. 

She walked through the servants’ passages, finding the close quarter walls to be suffocating, different from the excitement they used to elicit just over two months back, the last time she had snuck through these walls. 

Finding the door she needed, she knocked. The room beyond fell silent, and a long, breathless moment passed before she heard the familiar, yet unfamiliarly cold voice call her inside. Clutching tightly to her satchel, she pushed open the door and stepped in.

The sight was beautiful and breathtaking, and made her heart ache. The room was full of candles and gorgeous flowers, and the Princess was surrounded by several servants fussing over her makeup, hair, and dress. 

Vallene opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught and stuck, no sound coming from her. Circes narrowed her eyes at her suspiciously, and eyed her satchel. After a long moment of intense fire in her eyes, she turned away, and snapped at one of the maids.

“Retrieve Sir Vass Dormire, Captain of the Guard, inform him we have a traitor in my chambers and I want her dealt with.”

Vallene paled, and her bag slid from her shoulder and fell to the floor with a soft thump. She swayed backwards, taking a half pace back to steady herself. She didn’t want to accept the implication that was just revealed. Her, a traitor? Her, a personal friend and keeper of secrets for the royal Princess herself? Was that it? The secrets? Did she know too much, had her final attempt at one last letter from her old lover cross a line, turning her from a friend into a threat to her power?

Princess Circes snapped at another of the maids. It was Saeris, the disowned Princess, who, in different circumstances, would likely have been the one sitting where Circes sat now, preparing for a royal wedding. How different would things be between Circes and Zerachiel now if Saeris was still a Princess, Vallene wondered faintly.

“Saeris, be a dear, and fetch my favorite huntress. I have game for her to catch.”

That was all Circes had to say before Vallene felt panic and was turning on her heels and dashing back though the servants’ door and down the tight uneven corridors. 

Her heart seemed to forget how to beat correctly for the situation, the thumps hard, muted, and not fast enough. Vallene was out of the servants’ passages and tripping through the large castle corridors before her head could really catch up.

She realized as she slammed into the frame of one of the doorways to a courtyard that she was about to die. The Princess didn't just want her captured and thrown away to rot, no, she wanted her complete and undeniable silence. 

Vallene never thought a friend could be so cruel.

A shout echoes behind her as she slipped through the doors and into the courtyard, and she recognized it as belonging to the Captain of the Guard, a man accustomed to shouting at people from a distance and giving chase with more men following him on others’ tails. 

The courtyard felt so out of place to her mood, just as everything else had been these past couple months. From here, she could hear the beginnings of the wedding ceremony. It was clear Princess Circes did not let Vallene’s interruption delay the event. 

She only hesitated a second before dashing through the petal covered ground below silk draped sky. 

She found her way into the west garden, running through and over bushes and beds of flora. There were times when she was young and still with her parents, towns away, and would run through the gardens of the church her father worked endlessly to maintain. She Remembered he would scold her for ruining anything or for simply being a risk to his hard work, but he would forgive her and show her how to mend the broken plants and keep them thriving. A smile graced her face as a sob tore through her chest and tears stung at her eyes, blurring her path. 

Her cloak snagged in the thistles of a beautiful flowering bush, and she fell as her feet slipped from under her. She let out a choked cry, shaking as her hands came up to undo the clasp at her neck. She could hear the rolling thunder of approaching soldiers, and she wavered as she stood back on her feet and took shaking steps forward, willing herself back into a sprint. 

She approached a grove of flowering trees, and risked a look back towards her pursuers. Two people were at the lead, Sir Vass, and, to Vallene’s dismay, Lady Cylanne Woodsmann, clad in a cloak of furs she caught herself, the practically fabled huntress. 

Cylanne was a mix of beautiful and grotesque. A terrible scar completely covered her right eye, one jagged part going up into her brow, and another spike at the end where the scar met the bridge of her nose went all the way from below her chin and diagonally up to the right and into her hair. Her cropped dark red hair occasionally would cover the majority of the scar, and those were the times when it would be obvious that once she held beauty equal to nature itself, the very place she hunted in, and the very place that took one of her brilliant, lightning blue eyes. 

But now was not the time for Vallene to be thinking of the romantic tragedy that was Lady Woodsmann. After all, anything she hunted was destined to be caught, the end to every story she was placed in. This time, the story was Vallene's.

Right now was time to think of herself, and this frightening attempt to escape that which once she loved. Her shoulder flew into one of the trees as her foot caught in a root, and she cried in pain from the impact, then groaned as she skidded across the rough ground, feeling her clothes and skin marred by rock and wood. 

It didn’t feel odd or out of place, however, as she stood and ran again as best she could, slowed by a throbbing ankle and bloodied legs, hands and cheek, that her thoughts went out the Zerachiel. 

She made a promise to deliver that letter, and though she never removed it from her bad, the leather satchel that held it was still dropped in the chambers of the Princes he once loved so much. 

Now she was being chased, and her life was on its final stretch. She knew there was no escaping it, but running felt like one final act of fighting back against the tragedy she had witnessed. 

Her right shoulder felt another impact and pain bloomed in a matter of seconds. This time it was not a tree from the front of her, but an arrow from behind. 

She twisted as she fell, the shaft of the arrow snapping as the landed, the head and part of the shaft being forced further into her back shoulder and out through her chest at an angle. She lay on the ground, facing the sky through the flowers and leaves of the trees, breathless and in too much pain to sob or cry out. 

The thundering feet came to a loudly silent stop around her, and she glanced at the faces of the guards and the huntress, her own personal pursuers, hunters of innocent game. She let out a smile as the final wave of tears began to slid down her cheeks and to her ears. The tears kept coming as some of the guards who chased her secured her against the ground, and the huntress swooped to pull free her broken arrow. The captain spoke up, “Ensaint, what have you done?”

Vallene’s faint smile stayed through the pain and ragged breath, and her eyes shifted to the captain and the huntress standing beside him. “I believe in romance, in love… I only wanted them happy…” They looked shocked, confused, curious, and waited for her to continue, clearly interested in how her wish for their princess’s happiness led to them being called to end Vallene’s life.

She found it hard to speak as her chest ached with every breath, but she continued, wanting to get every last bit out. She knew Circes would be upset with her for speaking of this now, but for once, she didn’t mind.

“I delivered… their letters, their gifts… Such a beautiful affair… yet so star-crossed…” Her tears continued to flow as the sun dried them on her skin. She focused on the canopy of trees above her, taking no mind to the shock of the guards and the huntress who shot her. They were no doubt realizing she was not speaking of the engagement between the Princess and the foreign Prince. “Poor Zerachiel… She hurt him so much… But I promised him one last letter… I only hope he can find love again…” 

Back from the castle, bells tolled. The ceremony had not been delayed. The wedding was over.

She barely noticed when hands pressed to her open wound, now too late to try and stop her from bleeding everything out onto the earth, a fur cloak newly draped over her body.

She took in one last, shaking breath, a sigh, and smiled up at the sky, a smile now full of sorrow and betrayal, now framed in her fresh and shining blood mixed with tears. “One last letter… Do you think… that was too much to ask of her?” She never heard a reply. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you so much for reading, and commenting if you do~!

**Author's Note:**

> {Thank you so much for reading this!!  
Guess what??  
Vallene Ensaint is NOT her original name, it is actually the name she gets AFTER she died and her soul is transformed into something else later on after these events. I just did not feel like making up a new one unless I needed it. Another detain on her name, its a play on 'Saint Valentine', Unsaint is intended to be an 'unholy' twist version of Saint.  
Anyways, thank you all again so so much for reading this, please leave a comment if you are open to it~! Have a wonderful day~!]


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